


Sneaking Out with Peter Parker

by tonystork



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: COULD BE A TRIGGER, F/M, I wrote this a few months ago but never published, I'm bored so I'm publishing, INFINITY WAR SPOILER FREE FANFIC, Read at Your Own Risk, but ends happily, parents fighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 16:12:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14622314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tonystork/pseuds/tonystork
Summary: During one particularly rough night, Peter takes the reader out to help her unwind.NO INFINITY WAR SPOILERS!





	Sneaking Out with Peter Parker

You were currently hiding under your covers. Today had been a day. It started out great, don’t get it wrong, but you could have stuck the ending a little better. Peter had come over earlier in the day to watch some old classic movies, like the Breakfast Club (“I don’t get it, Y/N. If this movie has nothing to do with breakfast, why it is called the ‘Breakfast Club’?” “I don’t know, Peter, shhh.”) and he stayed to make pancakes for brunch with the music blasting. You even became a little more daring than usual, which was odd for you. You leaned your head down on Peter’s shoulder during the movie - and - he didn’t make a move to get away from you. That’s a win in your books. It was happy. You even got a few hours of peace while your parents were away at work, and you could blast music so loud Peter could hear it from his room below yours when he went home. He never minded, of course, even though it was louder to his enhanced ears. He loved the music you played and would often crawl out the the fire escape to hear you singing along better, not that he would ever let you know that.

 

It was when your mom got home that the mirage of happiness was shattered. You could hear her coming so you quickly shut off your music and ran to your room. You could hear the slamming of the door so loud you jumped. You could feel the strain in your muscles as you waited anxiously for her to open your door. As her footsteps moved to the kitchen, you felt your stomach drop. 

 

“No, please…” You whispered as quietly as you could so as not to draw her towards you sooner rather than later. Your stomach maneuvered itself into knots so tight you felt nauseous. You let out small breaths as you clenched your jaw so tight it started to ache. You heard your mom’s footsteps right outside your door and braced yourself before it creaked open, feigning a pleasant face and happy eyes. She came into your view in a haze of anxiety: bottle first, then her too-skinny body, then finally her face which looked pinched with stress and sadness and anger.

 

“Shouldn’t you be doing homework?” She said with barely concealed disdain. The clear liquid in the bottle swished around and you were transfixed with it. You often stared in your fits of anxiety. You could practically feel the fury in your mother’s eyes as you couldn’t stare up into them.

 

“I already finished it. I was just listening to music when you got home, actually. I found this new artist that I really like and-” You could tell your mother was getting very bored very fast, and when she got bored she got...Hulk-like. “...I...I don’t know.” You tapered off quietly. You tended to do this; you rambled around people like the well known example of word vomit. Suddenly, you got a pang of loneliness before it turned into the familiar feeling of nothing.

 

“Yeah, well, have fun with that. I’ll be in my room if you need me, though I doubt you will. Nobody needs me.” Your mother cut herself off with a swig from her bottle. You winced. 

 

“I still need you.” You tried to reason with her. You knew she was depressed, and you tried your best to fix it, but she just wouldn’t believe you. She snorted.

 

“No, you don’t.” She said as a spark of anger entered her eyes. She turned back around so fast that the ends of her hair hit the door frame as she slammed yet another door shut. You let out a sigh of relief as you heard her door shut. You let yourself fall back and hit your bed, curling into your ‘comfort pose’ as you liked to call it. Everything was messed up. It felt like there was a storm inside you. There were so many things mixed up in your head and your heart and you didn’t know where to start sorting it out. You felt absolutely overwhelmed with everything in your life. Your dad left for work this morning, but you didn’t know if he would be coming back tonight. He was a flake and you were at least ninety percent sure he was having an affair. Your mom was a depressed drunk that liked to take out her rage on you. Not physically, but after months of yelling and blaming you for little things and bringing herself down had taken a toll on you. You had been sympathetic at first, trying to help her and make her feel better when she was crying, but now after seeing so many tears, you found you had none of your own. In fact, you couldn’t feel anything. You stared out your window at the darkening skyline and wondered what the hell you were going to do with your life.

 

You felt your chin wobble before your face crumpled. It was only when you were alone that you were able to feel anything. It hadn’t always been like this. Yours used to be a happy family. Your mother was the best; always smiling and taking care of you and singing while she cooked, and tugging at your arms until you stood up and she would pick you up and swing you around to the music. You could remember the feelings of your childhood like they were memories from another life. Happiness was the major one you felt. Always laughing good and proper, not faking it. Your father was amazing, too. He would often have friends over and they would bring their kids, and you would play boardgames together and your father would boast about you when you managed to outsmart all of them. He was the kind of father that would do anything for you. He would bring you to the lake for the day to swim around, or tell you stories about his teenage years that you knew better than to tell your mother about. Your favourite was the one he told you a few years ago.

 

_ It was during the annual camping trip to your favourite glorified resort and you and your father were hiking up to the lookout.  _

 

_ “Oh, Y/N, being here reminds me of one of the camping trips with my buddies.” Your father started laughing, slightly out of breath from the trip. “Derek, Brodie, Chris and I were all in the lake with a fire going on some logs we’d found. It was just floating there in the middle of the water. Chris had rigged it up, it was actually pretty impressive. Derek had some marshmallows going on a stick he’d carved out. Then, one of the guard guys came up to us and said “ _ Hey, as fire safety, I’m going to have to ask you to either put it out or put a few rocks around your fire _.” I-” This was when your father stopped walking and let out a bark of laughter. “We were in the water, Y/N. In. The. Water. And this guy was telling us about safety.” Your father started shaking with laughter as you joined him, imagining it all and laughing at the irony of the situation. “So then, staring him dead in the eyes, Derek starts reaching into the lake and pulling out rocks and putting them around the fire. One at a time.” He was reaching the point of tears as he retold the story to you. “Oh, the guard was so pissed. But what could he do about it? We were in water, the fire was floating in the water, and there were technically rocks around it. Oh, that was a good year.” _

 

_ You were both laughing so hard that you had to stop your hike for a good five minutes. It was one of the last times your father ever told you a story about camping with his buddies.  _

 

You were suddenly snapped out of the happy memory when you heard the front door slam again. When you heard yelling a minute later, you knew it wasn’t going to be a good night, not that most had been. You bolted for the lock on your door and ran for the cover of your blankets. You tried to return to the happy memory above the loud bickering going on outside your door, but it was impossible now. It was like a dam released as you felt tears make their tracks down your face. You sobbed quietly, thankful for the covers muffling the sound of your broken voice. You were met with the stark contrast of what had been and what was now. You weren’t eleven anymore. You weren’t a little girl that laughed with your dad on hikes and you weren’t the little girl who danced with her mother. You were just the girl who was terrified of her parents and herself. What if you turned out just like them?

 

* * *

 

Peter had had a very good day. He had been able to hang out with his crush, Y/N, for a good portion of it. Even better, she had put her head on his shoulder and he could smell the sweet shampoo that she used. Peter had a very hard time trying to control the urge to put his arm around her, or kiss her, or say something he may regret. Then again, this was Y/N. How much would he regret it?  _ A lot,  _ he thought, _ she could end up hating you for it. _ Peter had decided against anything back and instead just opted to be her pillow.

 

The rest of the day went by smoothly. He got his homework done and May had taken him out for Thai dinner. Peter teased May about the sticky rice pudding when the waiter left their table with another wink and May got him back by wiping a finger full of the stuff on the side of his cheek.

 

Now Peter was lying in bed debating whether or not to patrol. He was tired and probably should have gone to sleep an hour ago, but on the other hand, he could be saving people. Then he heard a noise from upstairs. His heart sank for Y/N, he knew her parents were brutal and even worse when they were together. It was when he hear the yelling go on for fifteen minutes straight that he got up and snuck outside. He crawled on the fire escape up to Y/N’s window, discreetly passing their living room window where he could see her parents yelling at each other. He was about to knock on her window when he saw her stand up from her bed and grip her head. Peter watched in silence as she tucked herself into the corner of her room that was least visible from her door. Y/N curled into a ball as her shoulders shook, the knees of her jeans becoming wet from her tears.

 

Peter suddenly pitched forward as his foot slipped between the grating of the building and the fire escape. Y/N looked towards her window with red eyes filled with fear before she realized it was Peter. She got up and slowly walked to her window, opening it with practised ease. She wiped the tears off her nose with the sleeve of her sweater before she started laughing.

 

“Peter? What are you doing?” Y/N’s voice sounded beautiful to Peter’s ears, even when it was strained with sobs.

 

“Trying to -ugh- help you.” Peter groaned in embarrassment as he lifted himself off the escape and onto Y/N’s window ledge.

 

“Are you okay?” Y/N couldn’t help but laugh softly at him, though her voice still held a tinge of concern for him.

 

“Yeah, I’m fi-” Peter was cut off by another furious scream from the living room, and the thought of Y/N having to live through this regularly while he got Aunt May made him furious. Y/N deserved so much better than this. He held out his hand for her. “Let’s get out of here.” Peter said, running his other hand through his curly hair. Y/N hesitated, looking back at her door where the yelling seemed to be seeping through the cracks. Y/N put her hand in Peter’s as she looked at him with total faith.

 

“Okay.”

* * *

 

“Peter, where the hell are you taking me?” Y/N’s tears had dried rather quickly when they got away from the sounds of her house. 

 

“Somewhere you can smash things.” Peter replied with a shrug. Y/N’s eyebrow lifted for a second before she gave up. With a sigh, she followed the adorable curls of the boy in front of her. After about five more minutes of wandering somewhat aimlessly, they came to a stop in front of a dumpster.

 

“Nice, Parker.” Y/N teased with a hint of a smile curling her lips. Peter lifted a plank of wood to show an old China cabinet with a few dishes still inside of it.

 

“Wanna have some fun?” Peter said, gently lifting a plate towards Y/N. The pair grinned at each other mischievously. Y/N knew this was Peter trying to let her get her anger out.

 

“Oh,  _ hell  _ yes.” Y/N said, grabbing the plate and, like a frisbee, throwing it at the wall opposite them. “Damn, that felt good.”

“That’s the plan,” Peter said. “Let it out. Scream, yell, cry, curse the gods, do whatever!” Peter seemed to rethink the last one. “Uh, actually, on the other hand, maybe  _ don’t  _ curse the gods. But everything else, go for it!” 

 

The next half hour was spent smashing plates and bowls and other various items they could find.

“WHY-”  _ smash  _ “ARE YOU-”  _ smash  _ “LIKE THIS?” Y/N screamed at the wall as the plate turned to ceramic dust. Peter watched from where he was sitting on top of the dumpster. “HOW DARE YOU TREAT ME-”  _ smash _ “LIKE I’M NOTHING?” Y/N felt tears run down her face as she reached for another dish. Peter admired how she looked so beautiful still, hair falling over her face as she pushed it back behind her ear. It was as if she were in slow motion. Pain was only beautiful to outsiders, he knew. He wished he could make her feel better and take her pain away. It was so hard to see her going through this; the reason why she needed to take her anger out on plates. 

 

When Y/N realized there was nothing left to throw, she collapsed to the ground with a sob. Peter reached out to her and Y/N curled into his shoulder, soaking the fabric of his hoodie. “Why don’t they love me anymore, Peter?” Y/N looked up from his shoulder, her teary eyes barely meeting his, awaiting an answer he didn’t have.

 

Peter thought for a minute before speaking. “I think they love you, Y/N. They just...don’t love each other, I guess, and you’re being caught in the crossfire.” Y/N nodded, looking down. Peter watched as another tear fell from her eye and dripped onto his sweater. That’s when Peter knew this wasn’t just a crush. He was in love with you. The way you looked when you were smiling at him, the way your eyes glittered when he made you laugh, the way you looked even now, broken and lost and so much stronger than you knew.

“Y/N, you’ll be okay. I promise. I’ll take care of you. You have a lot to deal with and I promise to help you through it. I can’t say I know what you’re going through, but I will be there for you whenever you need me because I lo-” Peter cut himself off and you looked up, not sure if you were imagining what he was about to say. You looked up at him with a quirked eyebrow, and Peter decided to finish it. Either this was going to go well, or so, so bad, but Peter was struck with a sudden strength and damn if he wasn’t going to use it.

“I love you, Y/N. I have been in love with you for so long.” Peter said, trailing his fingers to your cheek. You were so beautiful to him. So untouchable, until tonight. There was something about being embraced by the complete darkness and freedom of a night spent outside that makes a person so much more confident and happy.  

 

Peter wasn’t sure of Y/N’s reaction. He couldn’t tell if she was happy or sad or anything. Her face was a blank mask except for the fear written on it. “Peter…” was all you said. You knew it was all wrong, you didn’t know how to convey your thoughts to him and it was fast unravelling. You saw his face deflate and felt his hand leave your cheek and immediately missed it’s warmth. 

 

“It’s okay, I get it.” Peter said, and no matter how much he tried to hide it, you could still detect a hint of dejection. 

 

“Peter, no. I’m just...scared.” You said, moving so you can face him. “What if I end up like them? I don’t ever want to put you through something like that.”

 

“Y/N, you won’t be like them. I know it. I can see it in your eyes right now.” Peter’s own eyes soften as they look at you, and your hand swings into your lap with a definitive thump.Peter entwines his fingers with yours and brings your hand to his mouth. His lips moving as he speaks makes you shiver from the foreign feeling. “You’re too wrapped up in your self-doubt. What do you want? Don’t think about them.” Peter says. You exhale shakily.

 

“I want to be with you, Peter.” You say. After saying it aloud, it’s like the film covering your emotions lifts. Your face cracks into a beautiful smile, one that Peter adores, when you use your whole face and your eyes sparkle. “I want to be with you.” You put your hands on either side of Peter’s face and pull him into a kiss that neither of you were expecting.

 

“You’ll be okay, Y/N. We’ll be okay. I’ve got you.” Peter says tenderly, holding you close to him. “We should probably get back, though. It’s got to be pretty late by now.”

 

“Yeah, I guess so.” Peter pulls you up with him and keeps his hand linked with yours as you begin the walk home. 

 

Peter helps you quietly get up the fire escape to your building. When you reach your apartment’s landing, you notice the broken beer bottles littering the living room carpet. Your room, however, is safe and untouched thanks to your locked door, but the thought of spending the night in there makes your skin crawl. Peter notices your hesitation and squeezes your hand comfortingly.

 

“Do you want to sleep with me tonight?” Peter says in a low voice before his eyes widen comically. “Oh, god, not like that. That did not come out right. I meant-” You cut him off with a small kiss to the cheek.

 

“Thank you, Peter. I would really appreciate it.” He smiles at you and tugs your hand with him down to his room below yours. He opens his window silently and motions for you to go in. ‘ _ Thank you. _ ’ you mouth. 

 

After you have the all-clear that May’s asleep, Peter joins you on his bed. You snuggle up to his side, your head on his chest keeping track of his rapid heartbeat. He moves you closer with his arm wrapped around you protectively.

“I love you, Y/N. I won’t let anything happen to you while I’m here.” Peter says, his lips brushing against your forehead,

 

“I love you too, Peter. I love you so much.” You say, finally closing your eyes and breathing in. Your parents can wait until tomorrow. Tonight, in this room, with Peter, you feel safe and protected and most of all, loved. It’s home.

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't sure about this fic, but I got bored so I decided to publish this. Thank you to everyone who reads it! I really appreciate you all. Please leave a comment!!


End file.
